Kuch Nahin
by Ragazza Doulce
Summary: [Kuch Kuch Hota Hai]...It's an alternative ending to the Bollywood movie Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. A bit more dramatic than the actual movie ending, but heck, it IS bollywood, eh?


_A/N: This is my first Bollywood fanfic (yay for me! :-P), so I cannot guarantee it being the best. It's an alternative ending to Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, a bit (okay...a lot) dramatic, but hell, it's Bollywood...it's SUPPOSED to be dramatic._

**Kuch Nahin**

She could see him there, as she stood in the middle of the stairs. She could feel the confused expressions from her family and friends. She could sense the look of fury from Aman, her fiance's, face. But she couldn't continue. She couldn't look away from Rahul. She couldn't marry a man she didn't love.

Seeing movement in the extreme still, Anjali looked toward Aman. He was coming toward her. More like storming toward her. His works echoed through her head. i _"If you throw any tantrums this time, I'll hath pakar ke mandap leker jao ga..." /i _And he would. She knew he would. And all she could do was brace herself for what would inevitably come. There was nowhere for her to go. There were too many people around her.

She could feel the hot tears flowing down her cheeks, but she couldn't muster up the will to stop them as Aman grabbed her wrist roughly. _"...I'll drag you down to the altar."_ She first tried to pull back, stay where she was, but he was much stronger than her. She stepped on her dress as he pulled her forward down the stairs and she fell to her knees on the stair below. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rahul move forward and couldn't help but be somewhat pleased.

"Get up," Aman said gruffly, anger in his voice. Anjali just sobbed. Her knees stung. Everyone in the room was stunned to silence. "I said, GET UP!" He yanked her up by her upper arms. Now that he was no longer holding her wrist, she could see how red it was becoming, already starting to bruise.

Aman started down the stairs again, towing her behind him, this time gripping her upper arm. The only sound in the room was her cries. She was beyond forming words; she wasn't even sure she knew any, at that point. She had quit struggling after she'd fallen. It would only get her more hurt.

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Anjali hadn't noticed how close the altar was to the stairs until now. Now it could be in Ireland and it would be too close. They were quickly approaching the mandap. Somehow through her thoughts and tears she heard the pandit speak. "The auspicious time is almost over." In a last effort to escape his grasp, she started sobbing and screaming, "Nahin! Nahin, please! Aman, please! Please don't!" It was as if those were the only words she'd ever learned. She kept repeating them, trying to get him to listen to her. She was bordering hysteria now, bawling, pleading. She heard a small commotion by the stairs but she couldn't register it. "Nahin Aman, please!" A new combination of the words.

Aman couldn't take it anymore. "Bas!" he yelled, bringing his hand down quick and hard, contacting with her face. Her whole face turned from the blow. She was shocked into stillness. Her body unable to handle more pain went weak and her knees buckled. Aman held her up by her arm.

The commotion to the side got louder. Anjali opened her eyes in that direction in time to see why. Rahul had broken away from the men who were holding him back and he ran in their way. He laid a quick, solid punch right on Aman's nose, knocking him off balance a bit. In attempt to stay upright, he let go off Anjali and she crashed to the floor. Rahul wasted no time in going in for another hit, but this time Aman was ready. He quickly punched Rahul in the stomach before he could land another hit. When he bent down, clutching his stomach, Aman kneed him in the face.

Anjali finally realized what was happening and got to her feet. Aman was drawing back his arm to hit Rahul again. Before he could though, Anjali grabbed him by that arm, spun him to face her, and punched him with all the strength she had. His eyes widened and he fell back. She stepped back, with a mix of a frown and a smirk on her face. Rahul looked at Anjali, then down at Aman. He had blood running out of his nose and down to his chin. "Woh kaise kardiya?? How did you do that?" he demanded in surprise, pointing from Aman to her. Anjali lifted her hand, wiggling her ring-clad fingers proudly.

But as soon as Anjali looked at him, her expression changed instantly from pride to worry. "Tum teekh ho?" she asked, swiftly walking to him. He noticed her limp.

"I'm fine," he told her, as she gently wiped the blood from his face. "Don't..." he said softly. "You'll ruin your outfit. . ."

She gave him a look. "I don't care."

He cupped her chin in his hand and looked her in the eyes. "Tum kaise ho? Does it hurt a lot?"

She smiled softly at him. "Nothing can hurt when I have you." And finally she did what she'd waited 10 years to do. She kissed him. Then repeated in a whisper, "Kuch nahin."

* * *

mandap= alter

pandit= priest

bas= enough (basically that's what it is.)

Tum teekh ho?= Are you okay?

Tum kaise ho? = how are you?

_And there it is! My first fic! Hope you enjoyed...Let me know what you thought!_

_BTW- I'm looking for other people who have Bollywood fanfics and are looking to submit them to a site because me and my friend have a fanfiction section on our site...so email me if you're interested._


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